Blood Red, White, and Blue
by WhoIsYourHero
Summary: The world has adapted to four thousand years of darkness. Conversations have changed to teeth ripping out jugulars and splintered nails piercing into vulnerable abdomens. If only we had a hero to cleanse this new world. Well how about two? AU UKUS
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone!**

**I just wanted to say that this was written as a short story for my language arts class and is my first Hetalia fic so please tell me what you think.**

**Notes: **_The word "cannibal" has a Latin American origin. It came from Columbus' hearing the Carib Indians called Caniba. The Carib were feared cannibal warriors of the Antilles in his time. The use of "cannibal" in literature may have been heightened by its similarity to can, meaning dog in Spanish_**. - _Encyclopedia of Latin American History and Culture_**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the Beatles**

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It was not supposed to happen.

Well, that is what they told me anyway, and who was I to tell them they were wrong when they had created me?

I, Alfred F. Jones, was given life by a chosen sperm, a chosen egg, and an empty cradle of a second egg. I have three genetic parents who are probably dead and rotting somewhere in the streets of some forgotten town that has been taken over by the Carib.

Disgusting things.

Ever since the Sun went out four thousand ago; the world has never been the same apparently.

To me though, it has always been like this.

I am awaken by men in white coats, and pulled from my cot into the bland hallway where I am then taken to my daily exercises. They monitor me day after day; squinting their black eyes through thick glass at my results which seep and stream from various bulky machines and into awaiting hands.

The papers always bear the same results inked across flesh colored paper.

I am stronger the papers say.

Better they whisper.

Perfect they decide at last before becoming silent when they are set aside again.

"Alfred F. Jones" The scientist calls in a tone so sickly sweet it makes me gag before turning to look at him whilst I pull the disk shaped sensors from my forehead.

Not a drop of sweat huh?

"You are now ready to embark on your journey. Go tell England you are ready, America." The sickly man muttered before scurrying away like the cretin he is. "The American dream, eh?" I murmured to myself pulling on my cowlick that refused to lay down when it was told. Such a stubborn soldier it was.

America was what I always was to the lab rats here. Designed to be the picture perfect American boy, with tan skin, cornflower hair, sky blue eyes, and the body built for a quarterback, I could soundly say I had a good ten legs up on these scientists with their gangly limbs and dead, colorless hair, but that is beside the point. I am not really positive what the point was but it was somewhere in there, and looking for it is always half the fun!

What was I doing?

Oh England!

Jogging to the door, I quickly pushed it open before practically running down the hallway where I knew the stuffy brit was. The hall was filled with the sound of just the bare heels of my feet connecting to the stone floor, which was freezing cold and only made me run faster, before I slammed to a stop in front of a worn cherry wood door. I hesitated a moment wondering if he would get mad if I kicked his door in. Nah. No one is ever mad at the hero! I decided before lifting my leg and pushing the bottom of my foot against the ancient surface. I pressed harder until I heard the tall tale crack as the wood splintered before collapsing at me feet in a pile of fragments.

Stepping over the deep red colored pile, I gazed around the room and grinned when I found a pair of irritated green eyes staring back at me.

"Arthur! Guess what?" I sang before collapsing partly on the couch and partly on the man who sighed and snapped his book shut with a 'thump'.

"What is it now lad? Not in trouble again I hope." Arthur said before rubbing the bridge of his nose while his eyebrows scrunched together like two caterpillars making a 'V' and I giggled at my imagination before turning to lay on my back and staring at the peeling paint of the popcorn styled ceiling.

"They gave me the green light to start my mission!" I said excitedly, already squirming on the leather couch as I waited for the reaction I knew was going to come. Arthur shifted on the cushion, running a hand through my hair in the way he always does when he is thinking over something he finds important. "So you are old enough then...time sure flies bye" He muttered to himself, causing me to stare up unbelieving at him.

"But I am already two hundred and thirty four!" I said appalled to find he thought I was not old enough to go out in to the world.

"You have got to understand lad. Two hundred and thirty four is still considered a baby when compared to how old I am. I just do not want you to get hurt." I sighed and closed my eyes.

Arthur has always been there for me, and I am sure he always will be. He seems more like a mother hen at times than anything else, but it is nice to know that someone cares where I am and what I am doing without expecting the reward that is usually anticipated afterward.

It was not like Arthur was old or anything.

Far from it actually.

Arthur looked to be at most twenty four, but he acted so much like the parents I read about in books, it was almost breath taking how much Arthur acted more like a guardian than my best friend.

"But England!" I whined and rolled over burying my face into the blue sweater covered abdomen owned by none other than Arthur Kirkland; which immediately made the Briton role his eyes and whisper a prayer asking for enough patience to deal with me so he does not pull his blond hair out.

Again.

Hey it only happened once, and besides it was really funny!

I realized I was laughing when Arthur grabbed the back of my shirt and gently pulled me away from the warm blue sweater I was trying to smother myself with.

Arthur reached over and flicked my forehead while he stood from the leather couch and stretched his back. I pouted and rubbed my forehead until slowly sliding from the couch onto the floor where I crawled over to the small milk pink fridge and I couldn't help but laugh when I saw the faded fairy sticker on the wooden handle that I had placed there on a whim when I was nothing more than a toddler.

Pulling the door open, I shivered at the brush of chilled air that rushed out at me like it had a grudge, which it certainly did not, and pulled out a water bottle.

Arthur was fast for an old man, because no sooner did I have the cap twisted off did he swipe it from my hand and start drinking from it like he was a man that had been lost in the dessert for weeks. When half the bottle had been drained, I realized he wasn't going to give it back to me, and so I had to resort to using dirty tricks.

My hand snapped forward and three seconds later Arthur was laughing so hard he had tears running down his cheeks.

"T-that's enough, l-love." Arthur said still trying to collect his breath, and I grinned triumphantly for it was I who had the water bottle!

Nursing the drink in my right hand and pulling Arthur through the empty doorway and down the hall, I chattered excitedly about going outside to Arthur, who even though has been outside more times than I can count, listened carefully to me, like he was memorizing every word and storing it away for later use.

That is what I loved about England. He always listened; no matter if my ideas were silly and improbable, he shared his ideas on the subject at hand almost as if reassuring me. On what exactly, I still have no idea.

I continued pulling England through the hallway and into the Boss' room only stopping briefly to pick up my papers, so that I was juggling Arthur's hand in one of mine and the papers along with the bottle of water sat nestled in the crook of my arm. England sent me an exasperated look before grabbing the sheets of papers, flipping through them to compare the papers I was given for my two hundredth birthday, which England had memorized, with these new copies. Obviously unsatisfied with his search, Arthur sighed and grumbled underneath his breath while he grasped my hand firmly and practically dragged me past the debriefing room; which made me give a questioning whine towards the other blond.

"It is the same papers as last time, lad. Nothing changed or added. Lazy sods." England answered, and without looking back at me, pulled me through the thick metal doorway of the armory.

Arthur released my hand and wandered around the room awhile only to turn up empty turned to me and narrowed his eyes to which I responded to with a tilt of my head and a quirked eyebrow.

After our intense staring match, sarcasm implied there hon, forest green eyes widened before the owner turned to a metal cabinet that looked just like the others and yanked it open viciously. The contents that hung from various shelves and rungs barely swayed with the force, which was surprising enough for the old metal thing to gain my respects.

"Ow! Arthur!" I whined rubbing my abused cranium with the tips of my fingers before bringing them into the light to check for blood.

No bodily liquids leaking.

Good.

England's eyebrow twitched in annoyance which contradicted the worry his eyes held, and I showed him my hand to prove my point.

I swear he is as stubborn as his eyebrows sometimes.

Reaching into the locker I pulled out the first thing I grabbed. Lifting it up, I stared in wonder at the intricate design of the helmet. The way the visor sloped slightly before being stopped by the smooth black steel that would cover from the nose down on the user of the helmet.

I ran my hands over tubes and vents, and laughed when I traced the American flag painted on the front of the mask.

Deep Prussian blue and blood red brought together with stripes of gallant white to form the proud Old Glory that still waves somewhere in this corrupt world.

The same Old Glory that would bow to no mortal king or queen would not bend or break in this time of darkness that is for sure.

Snorting, my confidant put an arm around my shoulders in a solid half-embrace. "Well do you like it, mate?" Arthur said with a beam of a smile that I could only return with one of my own and a thumbs up. "Good now get dressed lad, and hurry we must leave before dusk as you know." I was reminded before he turned his back to open his locker and dress for our journey.

I maneuvered and pulled myself out of the pallid standard issue clothes I was given, and lifted up the thick midnight colored body suit I was expected to slip on before continuing with the armor. Unzipping the back, I pulled and stretched the suit tight over my exposed flesh like a second skin. If a second skin was reinforced with steel electrical sensors that kept my body maintaining a normal heart rate, provided my bones an extra protective layer, and would keep me warm through the extreme winter that has taken control of the world since the warmth of the sun vanished.

I wiggled in the suit, trying to get use to the feeling of the exoskeleton that covered the suit. I hunched down only to receive a sharp yank on the back of the suit, forcing me to return standing. "Back straight, lad. You better not be a total ponce when we are out." Arthur remarked from behind his own helmet that barred the Union Jack with a tone of authority.

How could he get dressed so fast and I do not even have the body suit on all the way?

He noticed my staring and I could practically hear the smirk he was wearing in his voice.

"Like what you see, mate?" I rolled my eyes to that and laughed, punching him lightly in the shoulder that wasn't covered by armor. "Oh yes Mr. Kirkland" I remarked before fluttering my lashes and saying in the most feminine voice I could. "You are the embodiment of my fantasies"

That is when I could no longer hold my giggles in and they burst of my mouth like the the soft down that seeps from the stretched seems of a well used pillow.

The next thing I knew, Arthur had cupped me over the head. "Shut your gob, you nipper!" He hissed, but the few chuckles that escaped him didn't go unnoticed; so I grinned at him and rubbed the side of my head that pulsed gently like it had its own heart beat.

Arthur yanked me up again to zip up the back of my suit and connect the exoskeleton's spine to the back of my exposed neck where a small shimmering chip laid held in the mother's embrace of flesh and blood.

I winced when I felt the small stab of metal against the vulnerable base of my neck, but relaxed when I felt a hand taking up the familiar action of petting my hair. I leaned into the hand and calmed instantly as my brother in arms continued hooking me up to the sturdy exoskeleton.

Would we be considered as brothers too if we were created in the same beaker, in the same lab, only just hundreds of years apart?

I was pulled from my thoughts by England slinging the chest piece down over my head and stopped when the shoulder pad was firmly set against my left shoulder. I swatted his hands away half heartedly to continue suiting up.

Decked out in the form fitting armor, I sent a nervous smile at Arthur. "Do I have it on right? Does it look okay?" I received a pat on the head and a barely visible crooked smile. "Quite dashing, lad. Now we must leave soon." Arthur stated, pulling me in front of the rows of weaponry.

"We got the nod to grab the full Monty." He explained when I sent him a questioning look, and I just nodded, already running my eyes over the platoons of firepower standing at attention before me like they were awaiting military inspection at any second.

"You aren't gutted, right lad?" Arthur asked selecting a Winchester 94 hunting rifle and two SIG P-220, "a traditional double action .45 auto" Arthur had told me once, which he gave one to me to strap onto my thigh like he was now doing.

I had already decided before hand that the shotgun would be best for me, and so I grabbed for the Mossberg with the thumb sliding safety only to also be handed a Smith & Wesson's AirLite Ti Model 342 revolver also. I raised an eyebrow at him and he explained that I would understand when we went out.

I hooked my guns up to the small nuclear energy pack on my back, which was now used as ammunition instead of the lead bullets they used before the Sun went out, and waited for Arthur to finish hooking his up.

Now dressed in our dense armor we stride down the hall till we reached the heavy metal of the door that had held me in here for two hundred plus years.

We stood there for a couple seconds before England sighed and turned the Union Jack facing me before reaching out and double checking all the locks on my armor, and especially my helmet.

What a mother hen.

Satisfied with what he found England turned back to the door, gesturing to it with a wave of a black gloved hand.

"It is your jammy day, lad. But do try not to be so lairy or you are going to knock-up someone" Arthur said seriously but I couldn't help but giggle at his choice of words which made him huff and cross his arms.

"You are the epitome of maturity aren't you, wanker?"

It is a rhetorical question, but I shrug anyway grinning behind Old Glory all the while and pushing the keypad to unlock the complicated door.

With the tumble of locks the door slowly swung open to reveal the world I dreamed about running across freely for years, only for me to see glass walls with fish swirling around in happy groups dodging bigger fish of all kinds.

Apparently, when the sun went out the world that once was at an average of seventy three degrees Fahrenheit turned to a frigid negative one hundred degrees Celsius. The top of all the oceans froze and the ice kept the water beneath warm to the touch which explained why the science lab was never below zero.

Arthur pulled me through an airlock into the opened door at the top of a yellow U-boat.

How did that song go?

"So we sailed up to the sun, till we found the sea of green, and we lived beneath the waves. In our yellow submarine." I sang causing England to laugh and pat me on the head.

"You might want to sit down, lad. Or you might get trots." Arthur said sitting in a chair in front of the large panel of flashing lights and knobs.

I did what was asked of me, sinking into the chair and closing my eyes as I felt the submarine start and begin to rise.

I relished in the feeling of the swaying.

It felt almost like what it would feel like to lay on one of the clouds depicted from one of the picture books Arthur use to read me when I was to hyper to sleep.

The tranquility I felt at that moment was what I carried with me throughout the next several hours of darkness.

"Once this is over, I can sleep and forget." I whispered to myself for what was the hundredth time that night as I pulled the pin of another MK3A2 concussion grenade and tossed it into the crowded amphitheater.

Arthur pulled me down onto the floor as the explosion went off sending dust into the air and causing plaster to fall from both ceilings and walls alike.

Within two seconds after the explosion, England was up and pulling me down the crumbling stairs to survey the looked around at the mutilated carcasses for any still breathing.

Not finding any in the group still breathing, Arthur kicked one of the bodies in the side to show his frustration.

This was Arthur's time to get all the stress out that accumulated rather quickly when sitting in a metal box underground, and nothing was going to take it away from him be it a scientists or even possibly...me?

Would Arthur really kill me?

No. England would never harm me intentionally like he does to scientists that prod my body, checking ligaments and muscles through tan skin, before they are slapped away with a curse and a promise of bodily harm if they "so much as breath in his direction.".

When a slight crinkle of fabric was heard, I shook my head.

This is no time to space out.

The two of us turned on our lights searching for any sign of movement, making the balls of light dance across the debris and ripped seats.

I stopped and reached for my revolver on my waist and unclipped the safety latch.

Pulling the firearm from its cradle, I held it steady with my left hand and shifted the light to a seat that was currently vomiting feathers on the floor.

Knowing it was caught, the Carib pounced at me.

Bony fingers out stretched, face gaunt, eyes a blind blood-shot white, and teeth a rotting yellow dyed here and there with the flesh and blood of another nameless skeleton piled in the street or in the park.

It wailed a chocked sob as it threw its naked shaking body at me, peeling and splitting nails bared and sickly hair that tangled around its blood soaked neck trailing behind it.

With a quick flick of my wrist, a pull of the smooth steel trigger, and a sharp clack of the hammer, the gun went off and the bullet hit the Carib between the eyes. Fragments of skull splintered out of the hungry hole in the back of the monster's head, and a gurgle escaped it before it fell silent on the floor in a puddle of its own cerebrospinal fluid and brain matter.

England clapped me on the shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze before surveying the rest of the surrounding area.

More would be coming soon, to stuff the flesh of their own decaying kin into their snapping jaws.

Arthur turned back to me, and took out a handkerchief with an unicorn embroidered into the corner, which made me snort, and made short work of the fluids that had splattered against the stars and stripes.

"Are we going to wait for them Captain Kirkland?" I asked leaning against his shoulder as he folded up the square of fabric and stuffed it into one of the many pouches of the utility belt wrapped around his thigh.

"What do you think, mate? Should we leave this claret covered place? Or should we have a jar while we wait for those cabbages to get their arses here?" England proposed, and I laughed and pulled Arthur onto the stage to sit and wait for the Caniba to come.

"Brilliant! I have wanted a ciggy for awhile now." My comrade said unlocking his helmet, sliding down onto the floor, and lighting a match at the same time.

I followed his lead and unclasped my visor and flipped it open, and laid on the floor relaxing taking a breath of freezing air that smelt of dust, blood, and of the sweet smoke from Arthur's English cigarettes.

** TBC?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again!**

**Important: Okay this chapter is much much shorter than my other one, but there is a reason for that. I'm testing out something. To those of you who pick up on what I am hinting to in this chapter please tell me your thoughts on it. Should I continue with this idea or use some of the others I have?**

**Notes: _To dream that your heart is bleeding or aching, represents desperation, despair, extreme sadness and sympathy. It is also representative of how you are currently dealing with your feelings and expressing your emotions. To see cannibalism in your dream, symbolizes a destructive and forbidden desire or obsession. Dark green indicates materialism, cheating, deceit, and/or difficulties with sharing.-Dream Moods_**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or any of the Воины Апокалипсиса**

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_The warm embrace of my dream world faded suddenly as my body jerked suddenly._

_The feeling of hands groping my flesh through the body suit, before I heard the small click of screws tightening and springs recoiling, until all of a sudden I was surrounded by the cold air._

_I felt my skin tighten over my muscles and the blood speed up in my veins, desperately trying to maintain the warmth my body needed._

_My mind still fuzzy from sleep tried to comprehend what was happening as light flashed in front of my eyes, prompting tiny balls of light to dance behind my eyelids. Twirling around each other before I finally opened my eyes, and received a sharp glare from the red glass bulb above me._

_Wait._

_Red bulb?_

_Where am I?_

_Where's Arthur?_

_Millions of questions buzzed through my head. A mind, that was just a few minutes ago just barely putting along, now working over time making me want to scream and tell them to-_

_SHUT UP!_

_JUST, SHUT UP!_

_I can't breathe I realized. Gasping, I tried to claw off my helmet, only to realize they were tied down with pieces of my suit. The steel cables inside the fabric glowing a dull orange as my vision grew blurry, and I could feel my fingers swell somewhere above me._

_I can't believe the very thing designed to keep me alive is going to kill me._

_The next thought that burned a red stamp into my mind was that I could breathe. The helmet was yanked off my head and the back of my skull hit the stone floor, sending the nerves located there into a frenzy._

_But I did not care._

_I could breathe and that was all that mattered at that moment._

_Until, that is. I was staring into a pair of almost too green eyes._

_"Why are you just laying around, lad? We have work to do." England chided wagging a gloved finger in my face and setting down my helmet outside of the illuminated red oval._

_"Oh. Oh Arthur! T-thank God you came for me." I managed to slur out before gulping down air even though I could all ready feel it freezing the moisture in the confines of the vulnerable pink tissues that made up my lungs._

_"Well, Of course I would come for you, love. I couldn't just leave you here for the Carib to enjoy when even I haven't had a taste." Arthur explained twirling a Delta Wave Folder between his fingers, and I squinted as the light from above reflected off of the partially serrated spear point blade and into my unprotected pupils._

_I froze a moment later when Arthur's words caught up to me, and I slowly raised my eyes back to his face only to see a feral grin and smoldering dark green eyes._

_Too green, my brain concluded._

_So very green._

_A shocked sob escaped my mouth, before a pleading wail followed soon after the blade of the combat knifed decided my abdomen was the perfect place to create a sculpture._

_Now everyone is thinking they are Michelangelo these days, my brain remarked, hissing at me as a compound in my brain told itself to shut down._

_As my brain gives my body the 'okay' to release adenosine to slow my cells down and force me to sleep, I sleepily look down and see England's hands pulling the coiled white gray mass of my small intestines out, the pain already dulled because of the adenosine, and I shiver when he spots something inside of me and grins so wide I think his face will split in half._

_But to the disappointment of my body, it doesn't._

_My vision goes blurry once again at the blood loss and chemicals now flowing freely in my brain, and I hardly comprehend that something warm and wet is being pushed against my lips._

_"Come on, lad. Open up." Arthur calls, and it reminds me of the times he fed me whilst I was growing up, and so I do._

_Stretching my lips wide, I take in whatever was being held against my mouth, and I gag on the rough texture and the iron laving my tongue in bright crimson kisses._

_I lay there almost back in the dream world I almost wish I never woke up from, when a hand grabs my jaw and forces me to chew and swallow._

_"That's it, love. See. It was not hard to do at all." England remarks, praising me by ruffling my hair with a crimson stained hand, causing me to look up, and with the last of my energy, I scream._

_For I just realized, I ate my own heart_.

"-p ,lad. Get up! You are going to draw more of them here, and we do not want that do we?" The voice asks tsking and petting my hair reassuringly.

"Quite the contradiction" I mumble out loud, but mostly to myself.

The dark ceiling of the amphitheater appears in my line of vision, as I focus on calming down and running my shaking hands over my quivering abdomen.

Just a dream, I remind myself, but I can't hold back the tall tale whimper of a sob as the horrifying scenes play once again in the back of my mind.

Like when the person in the next room has the radio on so loud you can hear it through the thin walls no matter how much you just want the voices to stop, but they never do.

Warmth engulfs me and swallows me whole, and I burry my body against Arthur's chest and in his lap.

Constantly whispering to myself that this is the real Arthur.

The one who would never hurt me, never turn his back on me, even if everyone else did.

I gazed around absently overtop of his shoulder, as England petted my hair slowly. The annoyance that once tightened muscles and caused noticeable eyebrows to twitch uncontrollably, now replaced with sympathy and sweet words.

Empty words, my head sang reminding me of the world I had escaped from minutes prior.

No.

Not empty.

They were smothered with love, like that one metaphor with the milk and honey only better because this was Arthur, and Arthur is kind and loving and the embodiment of all the good things I have ever come across in my extended but bland lifetime.

We sit like that for awhile, resting against each other and relishing in the tranquility of the world we created centered on us.

Of only us.

That did not include the hundred plus more Carib corpses, that lay below and in front of the stage, that were not there when I first closed my eyes.

Or the discarded cigarette filters that lay next to a presumably loaded silenced pistol I had not notice him take from the armory.

It was just two steel clad bodies pressed against each other in an awkward embrace and that was that.

A rustle of fabric and the scratch of too long nails triggered my training, and without a word I snatched the silenced weapon, aimed, and fired a round.

The recoil snapped the gun up so the barrel was pointing at the crack in the collapsing ceiling, but I was still watching the Carib half crouched down as the bullet pierced its eye and continued forward. Driving itself against nerves and bone, before settling in the soft partially decaying brain and calling it home.

I heard Arthur sigh, slightly irritated I noted, and pulled on his helmet; but not before he nuzzled my cheek with his nose and flicked me on the nose.

"Get ready, love. We need to suit up and head out. Novum Eboracum is still a long whiles away and we need to get there as quick as possible to assume our roles." Arthur said pulling me from the stage floor and onto my feet.

"Roles?" I asked confused but oddly satisfied as England slipped an arm around my shoulders to give them a squeeze before setting to work on the clasps to his helmet and double checking mine.

Apparently my question was not worth answering since all he did was turn and stare at me, before strapping his gun onto his waist and pulling me down the side ramp and out of one of the knocked down walls.

"Come along, lad. The others are waiting." Arthur sang as he slapped me on the backside, before jogging away chuckling.

I was too busy running after him to execute a tackle to notice the mauve eyes peering around the corner at us, and I was way too busy when Arthur flipped us and he started tickling my stomach to hear the owner of those eyes turn to a bloodied stuffed bear, with the symbol of a weighing scale burned into the fur, and smile before whispering, in the most terrifying yet honey like voice I would soon become quite familiar with, "We've found them Kumajiro~" the owner giggled before frowning.

"Poor little Conquest-" The man sighed sadly while caressing the rough brick of a tumbling building. "To be stuck with War all the time." another huff was made before a splitting grin formed on the man's face.

"But do not worry _Alfred F. Jones_. Famine will provide you with all the _wine_ you need."

**TBC?**


	3. Question

Hey everyone! I am so sorry this has not been updated in a very long time (what with the holidays and me getting very sick) I was wondering if this story is something you would like me to continue or not. Please I really want your opinions and so reviews would be much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

I am sorry that I have been absent for so long. I am back because I am curious to see if and what stories should be improved/continued. I will be posting this on all of my stories so feel free to comment or private message me. If you would rather get a hold of me directly (if you want to write with me/ had some ideas) my tumblr user is Snartz. I appreciate all the critiques and comments I have received in my absence, and I hope to continue writing very soon!


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